


Let Go

by CityofAangels



Series: MCU Kink Bingo 2018 [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Crying, Dom Tony Stark, Edging, Forced Orgasm, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, PWP, Smut, Top Tony Stark, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 15:50:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityofAangels/pseuds/CityofAangels
Summary: When Bucky learns that Stark Hands, owner of his favorite porn channel, will be in town soon, he doesn't take time to think about it: he writes and hopes for the best.The best, he'll find, is a session of edging and a forced orgasm from a beautiful man. Not bad.





	Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> It's cool, because there's really no telling what one of my favorite kinks is, going through what I've written. Really. Impossible to say.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this ridiculously long edging smut story! Written for the free square of the MCU Kink Bingo.

Bucky wanted it to be known that he was _not_ one of these creepy porn addicts that knew every video by heart and commented on what looked like every single one of them, with in depth (ah!) analysis about what was happening on screen. No, he was certainly not one of those; for one, he had a job, so spending his days in front of his laptop, while tempting, was certainly not possible.

Though he wasn't part of that weirdo club, he had to admit that he _did_ indulge, sometimes, in some me-time with his right hand and a bottle of lube. And some toys, when he felt like it, for that nice touch of change. And yes, he had his favorites. And his favorite channel, too.

He'd discovered _Stark Hands_ on a quest for something new. After closing too many weird videos precipitately (who _in the name of hell_ put _tennis balls_ in their ass? Who??) he'd found one of Stark Hands' most popular one, where a cute twink was edged for long, long minutes, cumming again and again before the big final, where his back arched so violently Bucky could have counted his ribs, and where he'd managed to get cum on his _chin_. At first, Bucky hadn't known that was a kink of his; and he was being honest, he hadn't even thought about it. But after coming so hard it had slightly felt like his brains had exploded, he had to rethink about it. _Maybe_ edging was one of his kinks. _Maybe_.

There were about twenty videos on the channel: once a month, the man behind the camera (and, Bucky guessed, the owner of the hands seen on screen and of that delicious, delicious voice) updated with a new one. In addition to having a real talent for handjobs and a voice that made Bucky want to kneel and submit on the spot, he had a sure taste in the men he chose to show on video. He didn't have one particular type; rather, it was sort of a showcase of every man you could find on Earth, of all sizes and skin colors, a refreshing change from those people who only chose the cutest men.

At this point, Bucky had seen all of them, and he knew he had to book a whole hour for himself, without any risk of being disturbed, when a new one came out. He'd thought, more than once, that he would give a lot of money to live what these men were lucky enough to live, but _Stark Hands_ was based in California, and Bucky didn't have enough money to leave New York, so he'd had to resign himself to just watching the videos – which was already fun.

All of this explained why he almost choked on his sip of coffee when he saw the new post on Stark Hands' Tumblr – and _yes_ , he followed him on Tumblr, of course he did.

_Dear followers_ , it said. _I will be spending a couple of weeks in New York for a business trip. As I'll still have plenty of spare time between two meetings, I am looking for men – native New Yorkers or not – interested in edging. No specific profile required; just send an email with a quick description of what you like and why you're interested in a session with me, as well as some pictures of yourself. All sessions are not filmed, and I'll always ensure your anonymity is kept unless otherwise decided. Do not hesitate to send questions if you still have any! Can't wait for this trip._

Had Bucky ever, in all of his life, written an email this fast? He wasn't sure he had. In three minutes, he'd written and sent it, before even taking time to really think about it. He'd admitted some things in it he'd never dared to say out loud, and it was only when he closed his laptop and thought back to what he'd written that he felt an insidious feeling of embarrassment. But still, it was too late… and there were very few chances he'd actually be chosen, right? Right.

 

***

 

_Dear James_ , the email said, and Bucky had to take a gulp of water, checking there was no one near his office that could have seen how red he was turning. The coast was clear – for now. _You contacted me a couple of days back for one of my New York sessions. I'm very happy (and I hope you will be too!) to tell you I'd gladly book an afternoon for you_.

Alright, then, Bucky thought, and coughed a couple of times, feeling his ears burning up.

_You said restraints were something you'd really like to try, but never could – I'll be happy to show you the ropes :) Yes, that was an easy one, I'll admit. As you know, you have a choice of being filmed or not, of keeping your face hidden or not, but that's the kind of things we'll talk about before starting with the serious part. Same thing with what you're comfortable with – we'll take time to discuss about it. If you're still interested in meeting, please send me back an email with the timeslot that'll be easier for you among the list I've written._

_Thank you, James, and I hope I'll get to see you soon,_

_Stark Hands_

It was better if he didn't think too much about it – he'd get cold feet, cancel, and regret it all of his life. So he compared the different times written with his admittedly not that filled agenda, and sent back an email with the date that worked best for him.

Now he only had to wait sixteen days. He could do it.

 

***

 

The last time he'd been so nervous, he was fourteen, wearing his prettiest white shirt, hair slicked back with way too much gel, and waiting on the first real date of his whole young life.

Now he was twenty-eight, had learned to style his hair (he hoped so, at least), wore a black shirt and not a white one… and was waiting in front of a door leading to a room where he would have sex with a man he knew only from porn videos. Oh, his mom would _never_ hear about this.

Thankfully for his nerves, the door opened just a few seconds after he'd knocked, and he was greeted by a face he didn't know ( _Stark Hands_ always kept his anonymity), but that went with the voice he'd heard countless times through his headphones. The man was shorter than Bucky, and not as well built, but he still managed to emit an impressive aura of power that Bucky'd rarely encountered before. His dark brown hair was curling on his brow, smart, green eyes looking appraisingly at Bucky; he was wearing simple clothes that still somehow managed to look extremely good on him: his dark jeans hugged his thighs deliciously, and the rolled up sleeves of his light blue shirt framed muscled biceps.

''James, right? I'm Tony. Please, come on in,'' he smiled.

A light shiver went up Bucky's spine at the sound of that voice, but he smiled back, and walked inside, looking around him curiously. He'd guessed, from the time he'd stepped into the building, greeted by a doorman in smart clothes, that whoever _Stark Hands_ was, he certainly was not poor, and the first sight of where he lived, even during a business trip, only confirmed that. Even the _hallway_ was probably worth more than Bucky's whole apartment, painted in a tasteful light gray with touches of blue in the furniture. Tony brushed past him to lead the way, and they passed in front of four closed doors before he opened the last one, leading into a big kitchen and living room. Bucky couldn't help but notice the way the living room was set up: a big armchair next to a modern, disguised chest, and, in a corner, a weight bench. He gulped, but followed Tony to the kitchen corner, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs.

''Coffee? Tea? Something else?''

''Just a glass of water for me, please.''

A second later, Tony was sitting down in front of him, a cup of cappuccino in front of him and a smile still on his lips.

''So, James. You look nervous.''

''Yeah,'' he chuckled, and wiped at his eyes with one hand, ''I guess I am.''

''First time you do something like that, uh? Don't worry, we all get nervous and uncomfortable. Well, I did _at first_ , at least. But it's okay; I don't bite, and if you decide that it's too much for you at any point, you're free to leave, of course.''

''That's good to know,'' James smiled, and felt something relax in his stomach; not that he'd really thought he'd be Tony's prisoner, but still… it was nice hearing it put so simply.

Tony took a sip of his coffee, grimacing at how hot it still was, and for a second, Bucky couldn't quite reconcile this picture of a normal man with the purely dominant one he'd seen on video.

''I know this is usually awkward, but we have to get it over with, so: let's talk. I have your email here,'' he said, rummaging through a small pile of papers, ''that'll give us a basis to talk, with the checklist I have. Okay, let's see… First things first: camera on or off?''

''It's…'' Bucky hesitated, then pointed to his left arm, ''I'm not against it, but I'd like to stay anonymous, and my left arm is– I mean, it's a prosthesis. Pretty recognizable, I guess.''

''Oh yeah, I see. Well, either you keep your shirt on and I tie your hands in your back, so we don't see it, or I just turn the camera off.''

He thought about it for a while, and then shook his head.

''I think I'd rather not have any camera on for today. Sorry,'' he grimaced.

''No worries; I told you, it's a hundred percent your choice. Though I'm sure _some_ people would have loved the opportunity to see you.''

His eyes were hungry, now, looking Bucky up and down appraisingly. There was nothing he could do against the blush he felt rising up his cheeks and pinking his ears; he coughed to hide his embarrassment and took a sip of his water to cool down.

''Next question,'' he said, smirking slightly. ''Restraints: yes or no? And as I feel I already know the answer to this question, do you have any limits with restraints?''

''Uh, it's still a yes, and I guess– as long as I can breathe and see, and that I have an out, I'll probably like it. Well, maybe not some extreme shit like a full-blown latex suit or something, but you know, I'm okay with ropes and cuffs.''

''I wasn't planning on using that on your or, uh, on anyone, really, so we're good. What about toys?''

Oh great, he was blushing even _more_ , now. He nodded, shyly, but Tony reprimanded him by a snap of his fingers, making him look up.

''I need your words, James.''

''I– yes. I'm okay with toys.''

''What about penetration? With fingers or toys.''

''Yes to that, too.''

Was it possible to spontaneously burst into flames? He felt like he was going to know the answer about that soon enough.

''Okay, good, thank you. Any place on your body you don't want me to touch?''

''The scars around my shoulder are still a bit sensitive, so maybe, maybe just don't touch there?''

''Of course. Last question: would you rather I stayed silent, or do you prefer to hear me talking?''

''Talking,'' Bucky mumbled, and then cleared his throat when Tony raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, ''definitely talking.''

''Anything else I need to know?''

He thought about it for a while, but then shook his head, and said clearly:

''No. No, I think that's about it.''

''Great,'' Tony grinned and snapped close the little notebook he'd been taking notes in, with a definite and slightly worrying noise, ''now, let's go over the rules. We're not on camera, so you can address me by my name; _Anthony_ is more respectful than Tony, but I'll let pass any of these. Otherwise, call me sir, or master, if that's more your thing, though that's not an obligation. Understood?''

''Yes,'' Bucky said, but then corrected himself quickly at Tony's narrowed eyes, ''I mean, yes, Anthony.''

''Quick learner, I like that! Now, you can see I'm not that complicated with how you can call me, but I will not tolerate you being disrespectful. You do _not_ yell at me, order me around, or insult me. Otherwise, that'll be a forced orgasm, and though that _might_ sound fun, trust me, it isn't. Same goes if you forget to tell me when you're close and come without my permission: that'll be one orgasm more you owe me.''

Bucky had seen one of those in a video Tony had posted a few months back, and he knew that was something he'd rather not try; it had been of the rare videos where the guy had accepted showing his face, and, at that particular moment, his expression had been one of pure discomfort, bordering on pain. Trying this himself? No, thanks.

''I'm trusting you to be one hundred percent honest with me, here. My goal is not to hurt you – not any more than you want to, at least – and I'll check with you regularly to see if you're still on board with what's happening. If it's getting to be too much, you'll tell me, same way you'll tell me if you're getting close. If I feel like you're hiding something, everything stops, okay?''

''I get it, Tony. I'd tell you if something was wrong.''

''That's good, glad we're agreeing on this. Now, it is very possible that at some point, you'll be so lost that you'll be begging me to stop – even if you don't really want to. So we need to agree on something you'll tell me that you wouldn't usually. I often use the color system – red, yellow, green, you've probably read about it somewhere. It's easy to remember and quite instinctive, but we can choose something else if you'd rather do that?''

''Oh, uh, no, that's… that's okay with me. I _did_ read about it, actually. Red means stop, green keep going, and yellow slow down, right?''

''You really are a good student,'' Tony said, smiling at him, a little wicked and a lot hot. ''That's exactly it. Don't forget them and use them whenever you feel the need to – even if it's not when I'm checking up on you. I won't get pissed off, and that doesn't mean we have to stop everything, so please, never hesitate to use them. Still okay?''

''Yeah– I mean, yes. Be respectful, tell you when I'm close, tell you when it's too much. Easy.''

Tony grinned at him once more and got up, all graceful and confident.

''Oh, James, you'll see, nothing is _easy_ about what you're going to go through. You're going to hate me, and you're going to suffer, but I promise it'll be worth it. Now, last chance for you to use the bathroom if you need to; it's the first door on the right when you leave the room. When you're done, come back here and get naked, I'm waiting for you.''

As if in a dream, Bucky got up and walked out, to the bathroom. He barely registered the modernity of everything that surrounded him, focused on emptying his bladder in record time, not wanting to make Tony wait too much – he _really_ did not want to know what would happen if he did. Despite this, he still took the time to splash some ice cold water on his face in a desperate attempt to get rid of his persistent blush.

He wasn't any less red when he came back to the main room, where Tony was busy with some ropes he'd apparently extracted from the big chest. There were a few of them, different colors and lengths, and just seeing them made Bucky blush even stronger. At this rate, he was starting to fear it would never fully disappear, not even a week from now. Tony didn't even look up when he heard him come in, just nodded to one of the kitchen chairs he'd placed in a corner.

''You can put your clothes on this. No need to leave your underwear on, of course.''

There was a touch of amusement in his voice, and Bucky, trying to preserve at least a touch of his dignity, turned around to strip, folding everything neatly and putting it down on the chair like Tony'd instructed him to. He felt self-conscious and silly, standing naked in a stranger's room, his cock half-hard already, his whole mess of scars in plain view. Instinctively, he hid them with his right hand, his left sliding down to try and hide his crotch.

''Oh no, are we feeling a little modest over there?'' came Tony's slightly mocking voice. ''Come on, pretty boy, none of that. Come here and sit down.''

Bucky couldn't exactly pinpoint what had changed in Tony's voice and posture, but there was something… _more_. He'd shown confidence from the moment he'd opened the door, but now this confidence was joined by something different, a raw power, attracting but dangerous, that made Bucky's cock twitch between his legs. His voice, too, had gone deeper, somehow, more determinate, and even if he had wanted to, Bucky would probably not have been able to disobey the clear undertone of command in it.

So he did as he was asked: took his hand away from his crotch (still keeping the right one in front of his scars) and scrambled to the armchair, any shred of grace having apparently vanished from his body. His knees were a little wobbly, unsteady, and he was graceful to sit down in the comfortable, thickly padded chair. Tony looked at him for a second, from where he was still kneeling next to the ropes, and then crawled, feline-like, to his side.

''You can put your shirt back on, if you feel more comfortable with it,'' he said, suddenly serious and gentle, ''but I want you to know that I won't be one to judge.''

He opened a button of his shirt with deft fingers, just enough to show the beginning of a big, angry red scar right over his heart. Wordlessly, Bucky nodded, and let his hand slide away from his shoulder, shivering slightly when Tony's eyes set on the scars there, healed but still pink and ugly to his own eyes. Tony was nice enough not to comment, apart for a whispered _thank_ _you_ before he turned away again to grab a length of rope – navy blue.

''I'm going to tie your legs and your arms. It shouldn't be painful, but if anything is, you tell me and we find some other way to do it. Agreed?''

''Agreed, Anthony,'' Bucky murmured, a tremor of pleasure running up his spine when Tony's warm hands settled on his thighs, sliding down to his ankles.

He pushed them to the sides, until they were right next to the armchair's feet. It took him close to no time to tie them, firmly but not too tightly; the rope was almost as soft as silk on Bucky's skin, too soft to risk burning him.

''Try moving for me,'' Tony ordered, and watched with raised eyebrows as Bucky struggled against the ties, to no avail. ''Perfect. Now, hands behind your back. A little lower, or else that'll be pulling on your arms in no time. Yeah, just like that. No pain?''

At Bucky's shake of head, he smiled and grabbed another, shorter length of rope, red this time, that he tied around his wrists. Like this, there was no way Bucky would be able to touch himself – not without dislocating a shoulder first, and that was something he'd really rather avoid. His position wasn't painful in any way, not even constricting, and he breathed more easily, settled down in the ropes, in the way Tony had decided he wanted him.

''Good James, that's really good,'' Tony said in a purr that made Bucky aware he had definitely read and remembered the part about Bucky's praise kink. He took some heavy scissors from the chest and put them closer, where he could reach them easily, then: ''I'm going to touch you, now. Remember, I'm in charge; no trying to make me go faster, no moving your hips.''

The distinctive wet, dirty sound of lube being squirted into a hand followed, and, despite the warning, Bucky still jumped when a slick hand wrapped decisively around his cock. He made a small, aborted motion, his hips moving slightly up before he brought them back down forcefully, a pained little groan escaping from his throat.

''Yeah, that's better. I'm gonna learn what you like best, now. Don't hold back on me, James, now's not the time to be shy.''

Tony had magic hands, Bucky quickly decided in the small, blurry part of his brain that wasn't already completely lost to pleasure. They were warm and smooth, obviously well taken care of despite the few calluses that made for some nice sensations. And it wasn't only their warmth; it was mostly the way Tony used them. If there were, somewhere in the world, the price of the best handjob giver in the world, Bucky would give him to Tony without any second thought. He was doing _things_ with his hands that he hadn't even known were possible, but that felt so great he was panting in no time at all, the familiar warmth of desire settling and expanding deep in his stomach.

''You make the most wonderful sounds,'' Tony whispered next to him, both of his hands working over Bucky's cock in tight fists, incredibly smooth, like being deep in another man. ''Feels good, doesn't it, pretty boy?''

''Fuck, To– Anthony, _please_?''

''Oh, are we already at the begging phase? Mh, you should know I like that, right?''

His left hand did something then, a corkscrew motion on the base of Bucky's cock, and suddenly the warmth was becoming too hot, too deep, too much.

''I'm close, shit, I'm _close_!''

Instantly, Tony's hands disappeared from his cock, settling on his ribcage, and Bucky, despite the obvious frustration, could breathe a little easier, taking in deep gulps of air with gusto. When he opened his eyes to look down at his lap, he was met with the sight of his shaft already red and angry, hard like a rock on his stomach.

''Thank you for telling me,'' Tony said, cutting through his thoughts, his voice deep and rumbly, ''that was really good. I must say, I feel like this is going to be a very _good_ afternoon. You're so responsive,'' he explained and, as if to prove his point, trailed a finger down, feather-light on the length of Bucky's cock, that twitched with the small contact, ''really beautiful, see that?''

Bucky _did_ see that. That and the precum that followed, sliding down the length slowly, as if to encourage Tony to give him more. He moaned, low and unashamed, and rocked his hips up, not thinking about it.

''Uh-uh, I don't think so,'' Tony reprimanded, and where his voice was soft and encouraging before, there was now unmissable steel, reinforced by his hands firmly pushing Bucky's hips down. ''I'll let this one slide, because I'm feeling very generous, but you better not try that again.''

''I'm– sorry, I'm sorry. Please, just, can you touch me?''

Tony's eyes were watching him, dark and wicked, so attractive that Bucky had to swallow, hard.

''You think you had enough of a break? Hm, maybe you're right.''

And then he went back to work, his touch sometimes feather-light, just a few fingers playing with Bucky, before his fist closed on him again for a few jerks. Bucky started counting them, tried to find a pattern so he could get ready and brace for the frustration that would always follow, but it was impossible, Tony was making it impossible. Sometimes he jerked him firmly three times, then played with him for what felt like an hour; other times, he kept his fist closed around Bucky until he felt he would come, right there on the spot, without the smallest chance of saying something; but then, Tony seemed to feel when it was too close, and always let go, no matter how Bucky groaned, whimpered or moaned. It looked like nothing Bucky could say or do would disrupt him from what he'd planned on doing, and soon enough, Bucky was coated in sweat, glistening under the harsh, almost clinical lights of the room. He'd forgotten to tie his hair, and they were stuck to the back of his neck, to his brow, tickling him; behind his back, his hands were in fists so tight, he wasn't sure he'd be able to open them up again.

He held back good, at least it seemed to him like it was hours before he cried out, in a hoarse voice, as Tony was spending longer than usual jerking him:

''Close! No, no, please, don't– don't stop, no!''

He sniffled as Tony's hands disappeared despite his begging, wanted to wipe at his eyes, to get rid of the tears that were pooling in there, but there was nothing he could do. He was laid bare to Tony's eyes, at his mercy, unless he decided to say the word – and he'd never less wanted to say _red_ that at this precise moment. He'd thought, before coming here, that he wouldn't lose control so quick and so much, but there he was, already on the brink of tears, and he could feel they were nowhere close to being done.

''It's alright honey, deep breath,'' soothed Tony, and for some reason, his voice just made more tears appear, and the next breath Bucky took was definitely shaky. ''Yeah, you're okay, just great, relax, that's it.''

His hands were a comforting presence, stroking up and down Bucky's thighs gently, far enough from his dick to be nothing more than an anchor, and, little by little, Bucky managed to let go of the tension in his body, unclenching his abs and rolling his shoulders to get rid of the forming knots. When he opened his eyes, Tony was looking at him, full of warmth despite the fact that _he_ was the one that'd made Bucky feel like this.

''Hey there. Everything okay?''

''Yeah,'' Bucky answered, and he had to stop for a second when he heard how slurred his voice was, like he'd just downed ten glasses of vodka, ''yeah, I'm– 'm okay. It's a lot.''

''Of course it is. But you're taking it beautifully, James, just– gorgeous. Take a few more breaths, okay, while I…''

He gestured vaguely, and that was a gesture that apparently meant _while I get ready to finger you_ , because the next second, he was shrugging on a latex glove on his left hand, and squirting a good quantity of lube on it. Bucky whimpered, already knowing that this would make it just a touch harder, and that made Tony smirk knowingly.

''If you're as sensitive there as you are here,'' he said, trailing two fingers down Bucky's length, ''this is going to be a treat for me.''

Considerate, he rubbed the lube between his fingers to warm it, before circling Bucky's hole with his forefinger. Of course, it had the same effect on Bucky it always had, and the feet of the chair creaked as he buckled in the ropes, the intimate touch just on the border between good and too much, even more so than usual. He _was_ sensitive down there; and it had been quite a long time since he'd been touched like this – during most of his last one-night stands, he'd been the one topping.

''Oh, but you're a gift,'' Tony crooned with a big smile, ''you're even _more_ sensitive here. Okay, remember you have to tell me when you're close.''

Bucky _did_ remember, and he would swear to the end of his days that he had _tried_ and that he had wanted to obey. Unfortunately, his body had reacted too fast for him to utter more than a desperate _no_ before it was too late. It was completely Tony's fault, honestly; where his fingers had been magic on his cock, they were a delight in him, finding his prostate in no time and doing… _things_. Things that had Bucky seeing stars, bright pulses of light on his closed eyelids, and shocks of pleasure that rippled through his whole body, making his knees jerk and his hands close into tight, white-knuckled fists. He'd had talented lovers in his life: attentive and passionate, rough or sweet, he thought he'd known what sex was like, but what Tony was doing right now was almost a science, like he knew exactly how Bucky would react at every touch, and like he knew where his limits were.

Bucky had already had to ask for Tony to stop three times, too close to the edge to simply breath through it, and he'd thought he knew what to look for, that he knew the signs that said he was too close, but the fourth time hit him like a freight train, unexpected and hard.

''Nooo,'' he whimpered, and Tony took away his hand immediately, but it was already too late.

His eyes opened just a bit, Bucky watched as he came all over himself in four powerful spurts; it looked like an orgasm, but without a hand on him, with Tony not moving anymore in him, it was just frustrating, incomplete, and he sobbed with it, hoping with all his heart that Tony would take pity on him somehow. But of course the other man didn't; he kept his fingers immobile in Bucky's ass, his ungloved hand on his knee, and simply watched as Bucky writhed and sobbed.

There were tears on his cheeks, now, and he was powerless to stop them; and with the way Tony tsked at him, all disappointed and heavy, they just started coming faster, his sniffling probably deeply unattractive.

''Oh, James, you were doing so good,'' Tony said, and there really _was_ disappointment in his voice – and when he curled his ungloved hand around Bucky's cheek, he nuzzled into it, tried to convey silently how sorry he was.

'' 'm sorry,'' he slurred, swallowing back his tears. ''Sorry, Anthony, I–''

''Shh, honey, you'll just have to give me one more and it'll all be forgotten, okay? Just one more.''

That sounded good, in Bucky's lost-in-pleasure state, really, it did, but when Tony's hand went back to his dick to stroke him, it felt like _torture_ , even though the way was made easier by his cum, a smooth slide that should have been pleasure, but was pain, like thousands of little needles of oversensitivity. His fingers started their stroke against his prostate too, and that also hurt, like the bundle of nerves had transformed into one deeply hidden button of pain.

''No, no– No, please, stop, I can't… can't…''

''Sure you can, James. You can and you will, because I'm not giving you a choice, remember? That was in the rules. You're going to come, once more, just for me.''

He tried to get away, but there was _nothing_ he could do; his arms felt like jelly, all weak, and his legs were tied too tight for him to try and use them as leverage. Even when he curled back into the chair, Tony's hands followed him; when he bucked his hips, trying to at least escape the fingers in his ass, Tony growled a firm _no_ and held them down with his forearm.

Not even his uncontrollable sobs could change Tony's mind, even if, at this point, he was being so loud with his mix of pained, breathy noises, his crying and his begging moans that, had they been in someplace not as well insulated, some well-meaning neighbors probably would have called the cops already. He knew he was usually loud in bed, but this was reaching new heights, even for him; to his own ears, he sounded like a wounded animal, pleading for help, except the only one who _could_ help him was the same one torturing him.

'' _Please_!'' he cried, and Tony's hands reacted by working him faster, somehow, his tight fist on his dick so warm it was unbearable, the pressure of his fingers in him an inescapable pained pleasure.

''You're almost there, James, almost. You just have to stop fighting it, stop fighting me, I'll get you there anyway, c'me on…''

It took one minute, two, maybe a whole _hour_ , at least what felt like an eternity to Bucky before his muscles locked, mouth falling wide open on a throaty gasp, and then that was it, the familiar sensation of orgasm gone to welcome this new one, a toe-curling and body-wrecking shiver of pleasure that he could feel even in his hair, it felt like. He curled on himself with a pained _ah_ , hoping it would end _right now_ , and praying for it to never stop all at the same time. It was something he'd never felt before, and he came more powerfully, and simply more than he could ever remember, streaks of white that painted his right nipple, his abs, the top of his thighs, Tony's hand. He couldn't even _breathe_ for a second, almost felt like his heart was stopping, right here, right there, and then everything restarted, rushed and painful, like his own thought process – an incoherent mix of _Did I do good I hope I did, fuck, Tony, shit, so good_.

When he finally gathered his wits, at least in some part, Tony was looking at him, wide-eyed and grinning like a goon, wiping his dirty hands on a towel absentmindedly.

''You, James, you…'' he was saying, and it took a couple of seconds for Bucky to truly register the words, not just their cadence, ''You are one of the most beautiful and gorgeous men who ever stepped in here.''

He leaned down to untie Bucky's ankles, massaging them to get the blood flowing correctly again, his warm hands causing goosebumps to erupt all over Bucky's still oversensitive skin, and he shivered, moaned low in his throat.

''I'm almost regretting that we decided on no cameras, because I'm pretty sure you would have broken every record on Pornhub you were so wonderful. Oh god, I'm…''

Now his arms were being untied, and as soon as both of his wrists were free, Bucky grabbed Tony around the waist and pulled him close, his face uncomfortably mashed against the soft cloth of his shirt – and shit, he was making him dirty, but he didn't _care_ – muttering _thank you_ again and again, a soft smile on his lips when Tony's hands, hesitantly (like the man didn't have his hands all over Bucky's _dick_ the whole afternoon) burrowed in his hair, tried to smooth over the knots up there.

They finally straightened up a couple of minutes later, and Bucky got dressed again in record time, silent the whole time, regretting that this was already over. Sure, it'd sometimes felt like long, long hours in the heat of the moment, but right now, he would have given his right arm to start over. While he was getting dressed, Tony tiptoed to the kitchen, taking out some chocolate and pouring a glass of soda for Bucky and himself – sugar was important, as he explained when Bucky joined him. They sipped their drinks in silence and, true to every cliché, when they decided to speak, it was at the same time.

''You know–'' Tony said.

''I've been thinking,'' Bucky gathered the courage to say, his voice just a touch louder. ''Okay, no, you go on.''

''Oh, well,'' and now Tony was blushing, so far from the man who'd forced an orgasm out of Bucky it was like he was a whole other person, ''I was just thinking, I'll be in New York for a while – and I'll probably come back in a couple of months so maybe, we just, we might, uh… Make this a regular thing? Don't wanna force you or anything, but you really _were_ gorgeous, and there are so many things I wanna try on you, it's…''

''Yeah, alright– of course, Tony, I'd love that,'' Bucky rushed to say, cutting short Tony's rambling. ''I would _really_ love that.''

And it was true, he thought as he was leaving Tony's luxurious apartment, it was true that he loved knowing he would be back. Life was full of surprises sometimes and who knew? Maybe Tony would make him discover more things than incredible orgasms. You could always dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and/or comments are always greatly appreciated <3


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